


a flower wilts, a flower dies

by inky_fingerprints



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Bruises, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Flowers, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, IT'S VERY SAD, Loss of Innocence, it's also very violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inky_fingerprints/pseuds/inky_fingerprints
Summary: a flower slowly wilts in the bedroom, it's petals drooping, and yet it looks beautiful in the moonlight
Kudos: 10





	a flower wilts, a flower dies

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE HUGE TRIGGER WARNING. THIS HAS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF ABUSE AND IMPLIED RAPE, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
> 
> This was just a small idea I had after reading a larry fic on wattpad, it was such a beautiful, majestic idea that made me want to break down and cry so obviously I wrote about it. Hope you guys like it :)

Draco was broken, scars all over his body, his neck mauled with hickeys too rough to be called loving, too purple to be considered pleasurable. Long lines were etched down his back, too long, too red, too hurtful to be considered loving, too hurtful to be considered beautiful.

_Draco tried to convince himself that it was love, that this was natural, that he was loved. He didn't want to face the truth that he just said yes because he was scared, because he was just a broken bloody mess and this was the only kind of love that he knew._

_(He didn't want to say it – didn't want to say that he craved it because of the 'i love you's' that came with it – didn't say that this was the only love given to him because this was the only love he deserved)_

A flower slowly wilts in the bedroom, its petals drooping, and yet it looks beautiful in the moonlight.

He has bruises now, his silver eyes a dull shade of grey. bruises littered his whole body, purple, green, blue every shade of hurt just etched upon the temple we call our body, so ruined, so battered by what he calls love.

_He did not get why it was called a temple – if it was a temple it would be worshipped and adored, held so carefully and caressed gently, rather than be battered and broken like his body._

_(He didn't want to say it – didn't want to say the fact that he craved to be looked at, to be revered, to be treated like a god and not like a doll, wanted to be held ever so reverently and kissed ever so gently – he didn't say it because he knew he didn't deserve it, because he knew that he was merely a cracked porcelain figure)_

The flower loses a petal, loses the tiniest bit of it's innocence as it stares up at the moon.

Blood leaks down his thighs, bruises covering every inch of his body, his neck mauled and his face covered with tear streaks as he crouches and sobs, sinking down the bubbles of his bathtub, wondering if he could drown, drown in the water, drown in the words, drown in the 'i love you's' whispered as he bleeds and he breaks.

_He wanted to inhale the water and let it fill his lungs, wanted to scrub his skin until it was so incredibly red, wanted to be clean, wanted to feel clean, wanted to be free from all the imaginary dirt that clung to him like no tomorrow._

_(He didn't want to say it – didn't want to admit that he felt so– so absolutely dirty, so nude in front of everyone he would ever meet, wondering why they didn't gag at the very sight of him, wondered why they didn't back away from him – didn't want to admit that all he ever wanted was to be clean.)_

The flower is wilting, drooping, unable to look at the moon, for it was too dirtied, too nude to look at it's silver innocence.

The bat is taken out, and he limps, from what he does not know. there's so much blood, everything hurt, everything was numb, he was oversimulated, he was unable to feel anything, he was high, he was smiling, he was sobbing, he was screaming, crying out in pain but nothing came out, because he was too numb, too unfeeling.

_It's as if he's everything all at once, he's hurt, he's numb, he's crying and he's free, and everything just comes crashing down on him and he's giving into the pressure, a porcelain piece finally breaking as it reaches the floor after falling too fast, falling too slow, stuck in a limbo and suddenly Draco is laughing because of how crazy this all is, because of how he's free and he's chained, because of the utter paradox this all forms_

_(And suddenly he's stopped laughing and he's fallen limp, a porcelain piece crushed into dust, the pieces no longer attainable, it's broken shards no longer big enough to heal. And it's okay, it's okay because he's happy, because he's clean)_

the flower droops and drops and bows, submitting to the dark, hiding away from the moonlight in the shadows, because it was dirty, because it wasn't pure. And in it's place grows a small white daisy, tilting it's head up to the sunlight, unaware of yesterday and scared for tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So uh — yeah that's that and idk what to think of it. It's shorter than I thought lmao but um I tried my best to make it as long as I could. This was inspired by 'Undone, Undress' on wattpad y'all should check it out it's such a beautiful book I'm in love with it.
> 
> And please comment on what you think of it!


End file.
